


Sacrifice

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-23
Updated: 2006-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: An away team visits a pre-warp society and learn a costly lesson. (05/18/2003)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

"What do you mean? I don't understand." stammered Ensign Cutler. 

Hoshi Sato looked at the data pad in her hands. It contained a full and detailed report on the matter at hand. Captain Archer had suggested that Ensign Cutler should have a copy that night, as soon as possible after the matter had been concluded. It was better that way, better than learning what had happen through hearsay, rumors, or half truths. 

"I'm so sorry." Hoshi told her, empathy flowing through her carefully spoken words. "The captain wanted you to have this." she said. Hoshi could not bring herself to say more than those simple words as she passed the data pad to her. 

Ensign Cutler still looked startled and confused as she took the pad. She glanced at it and swallowed hard, as though she was finally beginning to understand what had happened. 

"Thank you." 

"You're welcome. If you want to talk after you read through the report ..." Hoshi offered. 

"Of course." 

~

An away team never knows what it will face on the surface of an alien planet. Every mission is different and unique, for better or for worse. Potential threats come from a variety of sources: the multi-facet danger source called the environment, the plant and animal life, unfamiliar or even familiar alien races, and even fellow away team members. The number of variables involved can be staggering, but still, crew members continue to volunteer or heed the call for away team duty. Danger does not daunt them, or if it does, it lends caution and caution only to their fulfillment of duty. 

On Gamma Alpha V the away team faced greater challenges and danger than they had bargained for in the course of this particular mission. The four of them went to the surface by shuttlepod: Malcolm Reed, Hoshi Sato, Trip Tucker, and Dr. Phlox. With the exception of Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker's side-arms, they went down unarmed, if not unprepared. The away team went into an area and a situation that was presumed to be peaceful and relatively safe, only to find that these presumptions were not so. 

"What's our ETA?" asked Trip, leaning forward to look over Malcolm's shoulder and making the young lieutenant nervous as he piloted the shuttlepod. 

"Just fifteen more minutes, commander." he replied, coughing softly. 

"Relax and enjoy the ride." suggested Phlox. 

"It just feels like it's taking forever. I haven't been off the ship in almost two months. I'm excited. That's all, doc." explained Trip defensively. 

"Where will we be landing?" asked Hoshi, who was glad to the chance to sit up front with Malcolm. 

"The coordinates T'Pol fed into the helm will have us putting down in the middle of the countryside between two medium sized cities. A nice secluded and wooded area, but easy access to the population centers." said Malcolm approvingly. 

The designated landing area was a meadow in a small forest that laid between two cities that had been detect from orbit. The forest reminded Hoshi of the great forests of the Pacific Northwest on Earth. It was a temperate rain forest of substantial age. It smelled fresh and clean in the early morning air. Sunlight filtered pleasantly through the boughs above them. 

"Worth the long flight, commander?" asked Malcolm as they stood outside the shuttlepod and quietly took in their surroundings. 

"You bet it is." said Commander Tucker, his sense of awe and wonder coming through loud and clear in his voice. 

"It is very pleasant." agreed Phlox, smiling as he looked around. 

"Shall we be on our way?" asked Malcolm after a few minutes. 

"Which way then?" Hoshi asked Trip, who was in charge of the mission. 

"Malcolm, you have a map, right?" 

"Yes, sir. We can find a town either eight kilometers to the northwest or six and a half to the southeast." 

"I love a good hike, but let's go southeast. No point in wearing our boots out." said Trip with a grin. 

~

When the team went to the surface, we knew very little about Gamma Alpha V. It was another M class planet with a pre-warp industrial civilization, orbiting a sun that was substantially younger and brighter than our own. It was a green planet with humanoid life upon it. It had not merited even the smallest note in the Vulcan databases. What do Vulcans care for forests and valleys, salty seas and snow-topped mountains? Very little, of course. I cannot help but to think that if we had known just a little more, things might have been very different. We would not have been deceived by the appearance of peace and beauty. 

They had left the eaves of the forest almost a kilometer behind them when the landing party heard the soft thudding in the distance. It was a little like thunder, but it was preceded by a faint whistling noise. Malcolm felt a strange thrill of excitement, but the others only felt a little puzzled as they halted on top of a small hill to listen to the unfamiliar sound. 

"It can't be thunder." said Hoshi, looking up into the cloudless, pale blue sky. 

"It doesn't quite sound like an engine." remarked Tucker. 

"The sound is coming from the direction of our destination. Do we turn around or investigate?" asked Malcolm, his finger tips momentarily brushing the grip of his sidearm. 

"I don't want to turn back now." said Trip with a shrug. 

The away team continued their hike through the hills toward the nearest population center, hearing only occasionally a faint faraway rumble that they could not identify. It was only a few hours after the first light of the day and on the horizon they could make out indistinct wisps of what Hoshi and Trip both took to be fog. As Malcolm looked at the far-off grayness, he did not feel so sure that it was fog that they were seeing. But if it wasn't the morning mist, what was it? 

It was still morning when they ventured into the outskirts of town, walking slowly down the carefully cobbled streets. These were empty streets, quiet streets where not a single soul stirred. Many of the buildings were vacant and run-down, as though their occupants had left quickly some time ago. It did not sit well with the armory officer nor with Hoshi, who was still a bit skittish. 

"Where is everyone?" asked Trip quietly out loud as they worked their way toward the city center. 

"I don't know, commander, but I don't think I like this place." said Malcolm through gritted teeth. 

"No kidding?" whispered Hoshi. 

The ground shook beneath their feet. It was like a small tremor, but it wasn't an earthquake. There was a loud thud, although the timbre and loudness of the noise made it seem more like an explosion than previously. It was somewhat nearer too. 

As they rounded a corner the sound of distant screaming voices caused Hoshi to halt in her tracks. She had a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. 

"Can you hear that?" she hissed as the others stopped in their tracks and looked at her. 

"What?" asked Tucker. 

"People screaming." she told him. 

"Where?" 

"Ahead, somewhere. I can't be sure." she replied, shaking her head to clear it. 

"We will go carefully then." said Reed, his hand brushing the phase pistol at his side almost as though to assure himself that it was still there and ready to be used. 

"Right." agreed Trip. 

Even Phlox looked a little worried as they began moving again. 

The party reached a wide thoroughfare not many minutes later. It stretched toward the heart of the city, down a hill and up another one. They all paused as they surveyed the city. They could all hear the voices as they stood on top of that rise. And seconds later they could see its source: hundreds of humanoids, most of them screaming as they ran, were running into the main street from various alleys, mostly to their left. To all appearances they were fleeing from something in abject terror and panic. 

A shrill whistle and a loud blast cut through the rising cacophony. The ground shook with even more force. 

"My God!" whispered Malcolm. "It's artillery fire!"


	2. Chapter 2

Information is power. It was a tired old truism the day before yesterday. No one would deny it, but the importance of knowledge was often sadly understated. If nothing else has come of the mission to Gamma Alpha V, then we have all learned that information about a situation is important. The lesson was taught to us at too great of a cost. The people of Gamma Alpha V were not all at war. It was mere chance that took the away team to a battle field. They could have landed in a thousand peaceful places on that planet. But they did not. It is tempting to place the blame on the human tendency to leap and then look, or worse, upon faulty reconnaissance. It was both, and it was neither. 

Our sensors did not register the artillery fire because it was so sporadic and so small, so light in the early morning hours. It was not a war of global destruction or planetary conquest. It was a very small war into which these officers unwittingly walked. It was vaguely comparable to the Franco-Prussian War on Earth. It was a regional conflict, not a world war. In any case, if only we had known. 

The away team had ducked into an abandoned house with two rooms: a bedroom and a common room. It was shabbily decorated and dusty, but the windows were boarded up and they felt safe there. The crash of artillery shells seemed to growing closer, but at least the sound of fleeing and fearful people had grown quieter. Their screams were many times more disquieting than the falling shells, although Hoshi closed her eyes every time one passed over head and exploded somewhere closer to the city center. Malcolm sat crouched near the front door that led to the street. Trip was maintaining a guard at the rear exit, which led to a small and untidy alley. Hoshi and Phlox sat behind a couch, which reduced some of the noise. 

Hoshi clutched a communicator as she sat on the dusty floor with her knees drawn up. The artillery shells were interfering with communications. She couldn't get through to the Enterprise. The bombing was too consistent by then to be able to find a window of opportunity, but she was waiting for one, just in case. But even so, what would she tell Captain Archer? She went over the words in her mind, but they were too incredible to contemplate saying aloud. 

"Captain, we're pinned down. We need reinforcements." "Pinned down by what, sir? By artillery fire!" It was all too incredible, almost inconceivable, but then she opened her eyes and there they were. 

Malcolm was studying a tricorder, perhaps attempting to discern the pattern of the bombing as he guarded the doorway. He squinted at the readings and felt a shiver. 

"Troops." he muttered, watching blimps of bio-signs moving in formation through the city. They were not faraway, but they were coming from the northwest. The away team had been lucky. The troops could have easily overtaken them outside the city. "At least we have cover here. Maybe we can wait this thing out." he thought grimly to himself. 

"Do you hear that?" Hoshi asked no one in particular a few minutes later. 

"What is it, ensign?" asked Phlox when neither Tucker nor Reed answered. 

"Marching." she said quietly. 

It was the sound of hundreds of marching feet upon the main thoroughfare of the city. A conquering army of soldiers was moving through the cobbled streets. Their feet, their boots made a heavy, rhythmic sound upon the stones. It was unsettling and drawing nearer. 

Malcolm peered through a crack in the wooden door and watched the first few ranks pass, motioning to his companions for silence. They were humanoid and unremarkable. They marched as troops march upon many worlds, as troops once marched upon Lieutenant Reed's own world. They were arrayed in splendid uniforms of dark green. A few were soot streaked or splotched with blood, but they all held their heads high as they marched in rank and file, unaccompanied by any music, save the sound of their own feet. Each soldier carried a rifle, or an analogous weapon, against his shoulder. 

Malcolm studied their proud, stern faces and felt a feeling of militaristic kinship rise in his blood. He shook his head, reminding himself that the days of marching and conquering humans were behind him, behind his species. Those days were gone and for the best. Humans had no cause to march to war any longer. And with any luck and a few centuries, these people would find war unnecessary and distasteful too. 

Then, after many rows of soldiers had passed by their hiding place, a loud voice called out upon the wind and the marching ceased. The soldiers just stood there, waiting. Malcolm backed away from the doorway, suddenly worried that they would be discovered. 

Hoshi looked very afraid as she pulled out her universal translator and sat near the door with Malcolm. A distant voice could be heard speaking, giving out orders to his soldiers. Hoshi knew it was very important to understand what was being said. It was all a jumble for several minutes, but then something made sense. 

"I want every house, business, and building in this sector searched. I won't have an ambush from behind ever again. If you find anyone, shoot them in the head and then shoot them again. Is that clear?" yelled the voice. 

The reply was a loud and brazen, "Yes, sir!" and nothing more. 

"What do we do now?" asked Hoshi very softly. 

~

The crewman at the communications station realized that the Enterprise had lost contact with the away team just a few minutes after eleven in the morning. He attributed it to 'atmospheric disturbances' and no one checked to see what these disturbances were. If we had known that the away team was in danger, we could not have done anything meaningful to help them, but at least we would have known. In a worst case scenario we could have tried to lock onto them and beam them up and out one at a time. It may not have worked, but it would have been an option. It is always best to have options. 

It should be perhaps pointed out that these officers were and are some of the most capable on the ship and in all of Star Fleet. They were the most likely to make the best of a bad situation, but I cannot help but to wonder what they were thinking as they sat in that two room shack, knowing that they were no longer safe and having nowhere they could go where their safety was guaranteed. Of course, there are never any guarantees, not even aboard a star ship or back home. But their best bet for safety was a shuttlepod that laid almost seven kilometers behind enemy lines. It was a clearly unenviable position, even for good officers. 

"Out the back way. It's now or never." said Malcolm, his face turning hard like stone. He tucked the tricorder away and they moved into the back room as quietly as they could. 

They slipped into the alley and took their best guess at the best way out of the city and back to their shuttlepod in the forest. Suddenly the air was alive with propulsion weapons fire, with gun fire. Malcolm drew his phase pistol and glanced behind him as he fired at a group of soldiers who were giving chase. Tucker, who had been in the lead, fell back as they continued to run. He discharged his pistol as well, hoping to drive back the opposition and ensure their escape. 

The soldiers, and there were almost a dozen of them on their tail by the time they had gone five blocks from their hiding place, were light on their feet and undaunted by the technological disadvantage they faced. If they had been bred to be soldiers, Malcolm Reed would not have been surprised. In the course of the action, Trip was nicked in the shoulder by a round of fire. 

"Son of a ...!" yelled Commander Tucker as they continued to run. Their opponents were falling back slightly, but giving no sign that they were ready to give up the chase. 

"I think they are trying to flank us." announced Malcolm as they took momentary shelter behind a small building. 

"Someone has to draw them off then, or they'll surround us." said Trip, understanding the point that Malcolm was making. 

"It's my job, so I'll do it, commander, but can you get the shuttle into orbit and back to the Enterprise?" 

"You've got to be kidding me!" said Tucker. "I'm already wounded. I'll do it. You've got to get Hoshi and the doc back home." 

"There is no use arguing. You are both right. Give me your weapon, commander. You won't be able to use it soon anyway." said Phlox. 

Both men turned and looked at him. He was serious. He had never looked so serious before. He held out his hand to Trip, indicating that he wanted the phase pistol. 

"But, doc ..." began Tucker. 

"You three have your careers ahead of you. You have long lives to live. I can draw them off just as well as either of you." 

Tucker handed him the phase pistol and said, "Good luck, doc." He resisted the urge to clap the Denobulan on the shoulder and told Malcolm and Hoshi, "If we want to get out of here alive, we'd best go now." 

Hoshi's cheeks were wet with tears as they ran through the maze of alleys toward the outskirts of the city. The sound of gun fire had faded from their hearing, but it had gone on for a long time. Malcolm and Trip, who clutched his bleeding shoulder, looked haunted and grim as they ran, throwing one foot in front of the other and trying only to think about what was in front of them and not behind. All they could do was run swiftly and surely over the hills and into the forest to the safety of the shuttlepod that would take them back to the Enterprise with one less passenger. 

~

"He's dead." said Ensign Cutler aloud to herself as she laid the data pad on her bunk and held her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs for several minutes. 

She had made many friends aboard the Enterprise, but none were so dear to her as Dr. Phlox. She wanted to tell herself that he had died bravely in an unrivaled act of self-sacrifice, but she couldn't formulate the thought. The grief was too great for that. It was too soon. Someday she would appreciate what Phlox had done, she would understand the necessity, and she would be proud to have known him. She would even come to appreciate the generosity of the captain allowing her read the report before anyone but the away team knew what had happened. She had been treated almost as a next-of-kin or as his best friend. But that night the pain of loss was too great for any other thought or emotion to find its way in. 

"Why you?" she asked, sobbing, and knowing the answer. 

~

When the time came, someone had to make the sacrifice. The choice had been his choice. Phlox had died to save three of his fellow crew members. The sacrifice was not in vain.


	3. Chapter 3

"Captain?" asked Ensign Cutler, peering into Jonathan Archer's ready room. It was very early, but Sub-commander T'Pol told her that he was there. 

"Yes, ensign?" asked Archer, turning his attention away from his computer. He smiled softly when he saw her. Cutler's eyes were still red and puffy, no doubt from reading the report she had been given just the night before. It was not light reading by any means. 

"Are there plans to retrieve the body, sir?" she questioned. 

"Have a seat, ensign." he instructed. 

Her shoulders shook as she sat down and looked at her commanding officer, but she retained her composure. 

"Sir?" she prompted as he looked at her. 

"I wish we could, ensign. I just don't think it's possible. Trip, Malcolm, and Hoshi barely escaped with their lives. Additionally, our scans aren't doing much good down there. I want to see him returned home to Denobula as much as anyone else, but I just don't know if it's feasible, ensign." he explained to her. 

"If you need a volunteer, sir, I will go." 

"That's very brave, ensign, but ..." he began to tell her. 

"Please, sir." 

"Did you love him, ensign?" he asked. The question was very personal. 

"Yes, sir, I ... did." she replied firmly, wanting desperately to sound strong, although the tears in her eyes betrayed her. She blinked them away quickly. 

"If T'Pol can get a fix on the body, I will consider it, ensign, but I wouldn't hold out much hope." 

She was crying at her station when the call came over the comm system: "Ensign Cutler, report to the shuttle bay immediately." It was Captain Archer's voice. She left her station and hit the corridor at a run. 

When she entered the bay, she collided with Lieutenant Reed, who was examining a phase rifle. 

"Ensign." he acknowledged as she collected herself. 

"Sorry, sir." 

"Are you ready for this?" 

"I believe I am, sir." 

"Ensign," called Archer from near the shuttlepod, "there has been a temporary break in the weapons fire on Gamma Alpha V. The two of you have maybe an hour to collect the body of our fallen comrade and return. No heroics. Get in and get out. Got that?" 

"Yes, sir." said Cutler. 

"No heroics, sir?" questioned Malcolm quizzically. 

"You know what I mean, lieutenant." 

"Yes, sir." he said. 

"Then get going. You don't have much time." 

"We are going to land in an urban war zone, ensign. There might be sniper fire or worse. Be prepared." Malcolm cautioned her as they approached the planet. 

"How far will we be from his location?" she asked after giving him an acknowledging nod. 

"Twenty-five meters, more or less. The body is in an alley." 

"Good. Not far then." 

"Ensign, it's all right. Everyone knows how you feel. You don't have to put up a facade while we're in the air." 

"I know, lieutenant, but I don't want to go to pieces when we get down there. I want to be a professional." 

"Understood, ensign." said Malcolm. 

Lieutenant Reed put the shuttlepod down in a small, deserted plaza. Some of the nearby buildings had obviously been hit by artillery fire. The scent of sulfur was still in the air, although it was very faint. The shelling had occurred during the early morning hours. It was nearly noon, and that part of the city was quiet. As Cutler left the shuttlepod, she looked around in frightened wonder. She had never seen an area that had fallen victim to war before. The history books did not do them justice. 

"We should hurry, ensign." said Malcolm as she surveyed the horrors. 

"Which way?" she questioned, her mind returning instantly to the task at hand. 

"Over there." 

The alley was very similar to the one that the away team had fled down when the army began their search of the buildings near the downtown area. It was narrow and shadowy even in the noon day sun. At the far end Cutler could see a figure slumped against a far wall that marked where the alley turned. A soft cry escaped her lips and she broke into a run, heedless of the destruction around her or any danger therein. Malcolm followed her like a forgotten rear guard, clutching his rifle to his chest as he ran. 

Cutler crumpled to her knees with a choking sob when she reached him. The front of his shirt was soaked through with blood. One side of his face was caked with it as well. Cutler had never heard the order given to the soldiers: "shoot them in the head and then shoot them again." But she could recognize that he had been shot with a propulsion weapon. She cradled his head in her arms, gently smoothing his disheveled hair and weeping silently. 

Malcolm couldn't help but to feel a twinge of regret as he approached them and thought, "We should never have left him, knowing what they would do. We should have cut our way out of here instead." 

The young lieutenant could not bring himself to intrude upon the privacy of the moment. Cutler deserved a few minutes to mourn her friend and colleague in peace. Malcolm shouldered his rifle and pulled out a tricorder. He needed to know how long he could give her without risking their safety. 

"Strange," he thought, frowning, "I'm getting three bio-signs here." He tapped the instrument, but it continued to show three life-signs. Malcolm glanced at the tricorder again and then at Phlox in Cutler's arms. He cleared his throat, and she looked up at him with anguished eyes. 

"Sir?" she croaked. 

"Ensign, he isn't dead." 

Cutler slow moved one of her hands to his neck and found a soft, faint pulse there. Her lips moved, but she couldn't say anything. 

"We must get him back to ship." said Malcolm. 

"Of course." she agreed, scrambling to her feet and wiping her eyes. 

It was no easy task moving him down the alley and into the shuttlepod, especially since they had to be very careful of his injuries, which were substantial. Privately, Malcolm wondered if he would survive the ride in the shuttle, but he did not share this concern with Cutler. 

"Stay with him, ensign." Lieutenant Reed ordered her as she prepared to take her seat. 

"Yes, sir." 

She sat quietly on the floor on the shuttlepod next Phlox, not saying a word as she gripped one of his cold hands. Her heart was pounding, but she felt calm as she looked at Phlox and knew that he was alive. It was more than she had ever hoped for. 

"Reed to Enterprise." said Malcolm into the shuttlepod's communication system. 

"Enterprise here. Did you retrieve ... the body?" asked Hoshi, taking a deep breath as she spoke. 

"Um, yes and no." said Malcolm, glancing backward for a moment. 

"Come again?" 

"He isn't dead, but we need someone to prep sickbay to receive a casualty. He's injured pretty bad, Hoshi." 

It was quiet on the other end for a moment. 

"I've relayed your message. Auxiliary medical personnel will be ready to receive you." 

 

"He looks good, don't you think, ensign?" asked Malcolm as they stood next to the biobed where Phlox lay. He was still unconscious, but the blood was gone and the wounds bandaged. 

"Yes." whispered Cutler, who had only left his side for a few minutes when the bullets were removed. She had been afraid that she would faint. 

"He's going to be all right." Malcolm reassured her for the tenth time. He had made the report to the captain while she remained in sickbay. 

"I know. Phlox was very lucky." 

"Lucky to be Denobulan. Those injuries would certainly have killed a human." 

Ensign Cutler shivered a little. Lieutenant Reed was blunt, but he was correct in his observation. 

"They say he could regain consciousness tonight or tomorrow morning." 

"Do they now? That is good news." said Malcolm. "Are you planning to stay here until then?" 

"Someone should stay. If he wakes up, he could be in pain or confused. He might not know that he's safe." 

"Of course, ensign." said Reed, nodding. He admired her loyalty, her devotion to the ship's doctor. Phlox would certainly have been lost without her. 

 

For all intents and purposes, Cutler had gone without sleep for almost forty-eight hours. It was not surprising then when she slowly began to doze during the earliest hours of morning during her vigil. She leaned forward in her chair and rested her head against the biobed. 

"I'm just going to rest my eyes for a few minutes." she told herself. 

It was hours later when she felt soft, careful fingertips touch her hair. 

"Ensign Cutler?" questioned a weak, but familiar voice. 

"Phlox?" she asked in return as she raised her head. 

He looked a bit disoriented, but he was smiling. 

"It wasn't all a bad dream, was it?" he asked, touching his chest where he had been shot. 

"No, but it's over." she assured him. 

"Did the rest of the away team make it back safely?" 

"Yes, because of you, they all came back alive." 

"Good." he said softly, relaxing and closing his eyes again. For a moment Cutler thought he had returned to unconsciousness. Then he spoke again, "Have I been here very long, ensign?" 

"Less than twenty-four hours." 

"How am I doing?" 

"How do you feel, doctor?" asked Cutler. 

"My head aches, and I feel a bit sore." 

"Can you remember what happened?" 

He was silent for a few moments. Cutler began to wonder if he had drifted to sleep when he took a deep breath and opened his eyes again. 

"Yes, of course I remember. I was shot." 

"Do you want anything for the pain? One of the crewmen who attended you left a hypo of Anaprovalin just in case." 

"No, I'm fine, ensign." 

"Do you want to rest?" 

Phlox chuckled and said, "Yes, I suppose I should. You look like you could use some sleep yourself." 

"Maybe." Cutler admitted, relieved to see his buoyant humor returning. 

"Then go to bed. Everything is going to be all right, and I imagine you've sat here long enough, ensign." 

~

When this mission began, no one imagined that it would be concluded in such a fashion. A simple away mission to explore an unfamiliar planet, Gamma Alpha V, turned into a situation where one of our most valued crew members was lost, presumed dead. Then it turned into a recovery mission of the most unpleasant kind. That mission, in turn, became one of unexpected hope. Dr. Phlox was returned to the Enterprise wounded, but alive. He has since recovered, thanks to Ensign Cutler, to whom he owes a great deal. Without her persistence and loyalty he may have been left behind. Thankfully, he was not. This crew learned a great many lessons from Gamma Alpha V. The greatest of which is to never give up nor lose hope in the face of an impossible situation.


End file.
